Ash (Book 1 of the Dunmer Series)
by SerenitysWillow
Summary: From the blood and smoke of the Great War during the Second Era rises a Dark Elf Orc-Kin, a Silt Strider racer, and the daughter of the Tribe Leader of the Eltdun, three Dunmer united from the depths of the Tribunal. Morrowind has fallen into chaos, and the secrets kept hidden from the three come to light as they travel to find the missing Amulet of Time, an emblem of Tiber Septim.
1. Chapter 1: Tribunal

_**An Elder Scrolls Online FanFiction, and the end is set in Elder Scrolls: Skyrim.**_

_**WARNING: I have not played the game yet, so if anything's wrong please PM me NICELY and I'll apologize and fix it. I do not own Almalexia, Vivec, Sotha Sil, Neverar Indoril, General Balreth, Legate Sadal, Tanvel Indoril, Garyn Indoril, Barenziah's parents, and others you come across which you have heard or seen in the game. (Because I'm to lazy to write all of them.)**_

_**I do however, own Ilsa Indoril, Llaala Indoril, T_**ralsa **_Indoril, Tadave Doren, Ralamus Hlaalu, _**Khadba, Chief Sha**_**__**_**kh, Uramulg, Mashagam, Durash, Nargat, Ahdanji, Tsabhi, Shabhira, S'Baad, M'Raksadarg, Tidril Hlaalu, Ararvy Doren, S'Baadar, Hasell, Jartod, Nania, Meesei, Banalz, Deesei, Gih-Mees, Nakuma, Gih-Mees, Huleed, **_**__**_**Neeta, Oleeme, Peer-Mah, Oleeme, Ylbent, Cinele, Zebbaae Odin-Ahhe, Uranab Benamamat, Kummuu Asserbassalit, Adairan Assantinalit, Pegaro, Haakig the Serpent-Tongue, Hodlin the Serpent-Tongue, Ingana, Erissa and **_Rolis Andoril and more.**_

_**If anyone is curious of where I got the names from, they're from a Tamriel Name Generator.**_

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><p>Grey clouds. That's all you could see for miles in the sky, with the rain blurring the citizens vision. It was the middle of the beautiful Second Era, in the year 296, peace scattered across Tamriel, and the most happiness in the world came from the Dunmer province of Morrowind, directly from the city of Mournhold. The Festival of the Tribunal had begun.<p>

The Festival, which celebrated the three Gods of the Tribunal; Almalexia, Sotha Sil and Vivec, ran for a fortnight, with games and plays, and food and drinks were donated from the Great Houses of Morrowind and the wealthy families from nearby cities or from Mournhold itself, banners and flags hang on buildings and across them to the building opposite them.

Children of all races; Dunmer, Khajiit, Argonian, Breton, Imperial, Altmer, Orsimer, Bosmer, Redguard, and even a small number of Maormer, a race south of the Southern Isles from Pyandonea (All who only came to the Fesitval then left straight after) were entertained by jesters and mages, who used their magicka to bring illusions of people and animals as they either told stories or tried to distract the children, and nearly everyone danced with some of the dancers hired for the celebration. No one rested for days until the end of the Festival, where the leader of the Tribunal, Almalexia, made her speech.

The grey clouds above Mournhold opened and the rays of the sun slammed down on the backs of every member of the city as they got ready for the festival with excited smiles on their faces as they discussed the theme decorations for this year. Magicka.

This year every banner, every flag, every table decoration, must be related to the theme. This year, trained Flame and Storm atronaches were allowed to come to entertain everyone on stage, with their masters from the _Blackreach Circus_, named after a famous Dwemer ruin in the depths of Skyrim underneath half of the land.

The Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold, (whose name is unknown to everyone but some people think it's still the Great Vanus Galerion), was invited with all of the Mages training or working in the College to give a grand finale at the end of the Festival, but rumours was that he was murdered on the way to Mournhold, or he just didn't want to come, but some of the Mages had arrived, and told the Lord and Lady of Mournhold that the Great Arch-Mage was too ill to attend, which calmed some of the population.

A young Dunmer woman, with black, raven hair and crimson red eyes looked around the street she was walking down, looking away when some of her neighbours made eye contact with her. Her dark green, velvet dress dragged across the bricks of the path as she made her way to the small cottage outside the city of Mournhold, the home of her mother.

She seemed to relax when she walked out of the gates of the city and towards the small home. She smiled slightly when she saw the smoke coming from the chimney, and she knew her mother was cooking her favourite meal for her arrival, Ash Yam Soup with a hint of Sujamma, two of the most rarest foods in all of Tamriel, and only found on the sides of the Red Mountain and Solstheim.

"Llaala! My beautiful daughter, come in, come in." Tralsa Indoril said from her place outside her cottage, pulling out her own grown Ash Yam out of the ground. Llaala Indoril, the sister of the Grandmaster of House Indoril, took a shaky step into the yard, looking at her mother with eyes full of unshed tears.

Tralsa looked up when she didn't hear an answer and stood up, opening her arms for her daughter to run into. The young Dunmer woman let out a sob and ran to her mother and held her close to her as much as she could.

"Oh! Love, careful, I'm not as young as I used to be." Tralsa chuckled as she rubbed her daughters back.

"I...I got into another fight with Tanvel again..." Llaala whispered, her sniffling muffled by her mother's blue dress. Tralsa's grip tightened around her daughter and she sighed, kissing Llaala's hair. Her only and oldest son, Tanvel Indoril, used his power as the Grandmaster of House Indoril too far as to change rules in the House and dishonouring the Indoril name more then once. He was always tricky to handle when he was a young boy, and got more of his mischievous and pride from his father, who died when he was only nine, and Llaala at the age of three.

"What about?" she asked, looking down at Llaala with concern. She shook her head and wiped away her tears, looking at the door silently.

Tralsa turned her head to follow her gaze and a smile etched on her face as she caught sight of the baby sitting in the doorway, watching them with wide crimson eyes, while small sprouts of curly black hair growing from the top of her head blew in the breeze. The dress she wore was an indigo colour, and her feet were bare, showing her small, chubby, grey feet. She looked at Tralsa before noticing Llaala and a gum-less smile spread across her face as she started clapping and squealing, making grabby hands at her.

"Oh, Ilsa, my baby! Mama's here!"

The sadness from before had disappeared, and happiness at the sight of her infant daughter shone right through her as she ran to her. She scooped the infant up in her arms, grinning at Ilsa. The small Dunmer baby started to shriek in delight when her mother started to throw her up in the air, smiling happily.

"Mama..." Ilsa mewled as she landed back in her mother's arms. Llaala smiled and sat down on the stairs leading to the house, holding her daughter close to her chest.

"Yes, Mama. I'm your Mama, and I'll always be your Mama." she whispered, rocking them both back and forth with the wind. Tralsa watched them from her place in the Ash Yam patch, and she smiled at the sight of her daughter and her granddaughter. Llaala finally looked up at her mother with a small smile, her eyes twinkling with the same gleam which always appeared in her eyes when she had caught the local gossip.

"Did you hear what Tidril Hlaalu has got up too recently?"

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><p>"For a baby, it is a bit...intimidating." Vivec drawled as he stared at the child in front of them. His seat in the middle of the Council room was higher than the Dunmer's next to him, but the woman in front of him across the circular table made him small next to the Lady of Mercy. Almalexia Indoril, the former wife of Neverar Indoril, the Leader of Morrowind and the Great Houses, stared down at her fellow Gods with a small smile slowly growing upon her lips.<p>

"Oh grow up Vivec, it's a child, like we were once upon a time ago." Sotha Sil scoffed at his friend, rolling his eyes.

"A very powerful child, my friend. One day this child will come to us for answers, and I don't think we'll be able to give them." Vivec whispered.

"Well, answers or not, I do know one thing. This silly excuse for a child will not change the course of Tamriel!" Sotha Sil snarled.

"The war is approaching! It will join it with the other Dunmer like itself!" The God said, his voice rising to match his former teachers. Sotha Sil jumped up on his Dwemer-made feet, slamming his hand onto the table, making the sound ring around the room.

"I will not let the fate of Morrowind lay in the hand of a-" A new voice ran out, interrupting the Chimer. The tone in her voice made the two male Gods wince and Sotha Sil slowly sit down, glaring at his student with hatred.

"We will not fight, brothers! The fate of Morrowind rests in this child's hands, and both of you arguing will not help our home!" Almalexia snapped, her indigo eyes piercing into the Chimer and the half Chimer, half Dunmer's souls.

They glanced at each other as the female stood up and walked to the window, staring out at the people of Mournhold from her castle in the Tribunal District, a forbidden place to venture into, as it was the homes of the Chimer who weren't cursed by Azura years ago at the Red Mountain. The races getting ready for the Festival brought happiness to the God's heart, a feeling she hadn't felt since the death of her husband.

"Why do you care about this child? I know this baby is the reason why Morrowind will survive after the war you clearly predicted, but the care and protection you have over it is not understandable. Why, Almalexia, do you care about this one child, out of all of the Dunmer children born each day, who will be raised to worship their Gods?" Sotha Sil asked. She sighed and looked at her reflection in the stained glass panels, she whispered so quietly and so softly that the 'Mystery of Morrowind' and the Lord of Poet strained their ears to hear her say;

"Because I promised her."

General Balreth listened through the closed door, and a smirk grew on his face as he heard of the fate of Morrowind.

He stared down at the city of Mournhold from his place standing on the balcony of the palace in the Tribunal District, his eyes dancing over the citizens as he found the woman dressed in dark velvet green walking to the giant mansion in front of her, a baby on her hip, dressed in only indigo, and the General grinned. He watched her walk into the mansion, and his grin grew, slowly turning into a smirk.

The Indorils, one of the Great Houses of Morrowind, were a troublesome group, especially with Tralsa Indoril and her two children, both having children of their own; a son and a daughter, respectfully. Their father, bless his soul, was the bravest man he had ever known, and his death brought distress to Tralsa and their children, only little children at the time. Neverar Indoril may have been married to Almalexia, but his heart belonged to Tralsa, and her heart belonged to him. Almalexia had discovered Neverar's betrayal when she had witnessed both of them sneaking out to see each other every night since Llaala's birth, both keeping it a secret that Neverar was the father. Almalexia, with sworn vengeance, brought up the plan to Neverar at the Red Mountain, and made the other two agree, only to see what they had done when they discovered the truth behind Neverar's death. He was mischievous, and a bloody peasant in his childhood, and his children were no different;

Tanvel, with his son Garyn, were both menaces in Balreth's eyes, and they had the city tight in their grasp, even though Garyn was only a small child, you would know that he was going to be exactly like his father and his grand-father, with his trickster smile and that familiar glint in his eyes. The future Head of House Indoril would destroy Morrowind with his father's influences. Not if he, the General of the Former Chimer Army, had something to do with it.

The General turned to look at the guard standing in front of the balcony door, and a smirk regrew on his face.

"Gather the guards, it's time."


	2. Chapter 2: Run

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scrolls, like I said in the last chapter. **_

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><p><em><span><strong>Chapter 1 - Run<strong>_

Footsteps. The clanging of steel hitting steel. Screaming. Shouting. Children asking for parents what was going on as they watched from the doorways of their homes. Pushing. Shoving. _Run. _

"-I can't run that fast! They'll get me!-"

"-Llaala!-"

_"-Their coming!-"_

_"-Run." _

She ran. The bundle in her arms sleeping through the noises as the mother ran through the closing gates, and the guards watching in shock before the wooden doors shut, locking everyone in and out of the city. Torches lit the night sky as the citizens and visitors bustled out of their homes and inns, investigating the source of shouts and screams.

"Open the gates! _Open the gates!"_

Tralsa appeared at her doorstep, and when she saw Llaala running past her towards the stables she knew.

_Someone found out._

Someone found out of the affair between her and her sister's husband. Someone found out about her children's heritage. Someone found out about the secret she had been keeping to herself for ye-

_Almalexia._

She always knew that heartless-and a bit jealous-woman would tell someone and take revenge, it was only a matter of time. And now, her children and House Indoril were suffering because of her and the secret her own sister promised and failed to keep.

Was it because she could never have children? Never tried?

Almalexia knew of Nerevar's dream to start a family, and because he trusted her to make his dream a reality, he had failed to notice that her own, sweet, loving sister was the only one close to him actually fertile to bare him offspring. So when Almalexia told him about her failure to conceive she-the now great Chimer God-brought up the idea of Tralsa giving them a child.

Almalexia wanted-no, needed-an heir. She nearly jumped for joy when her sister gave birth to a son who they all agreed to call Tanvel.

Almalexia's interest to her sister's romantic life heightened when Llaala was born. She didn't remember being told that Tralsa was courting, and decided to follow her one night. She nearly beat her sister when she discovered the truth.

But, she didn't, she was planning something for three years, and her sister nearly killed the Goddess for killing her beloved. She couldn't.

She loved her sister. She really did, but killing her wasn't the answer. Almalexia did not strip her or her children's privileges of being an Indoril, or denied giving Tralsa's grandchildren the title. She didn't even say anything when her nephew became Head of the House.

_And all because she wanted to kill Nerevar's children. Waiting for the perfect time to strike, like always. _

Tralsa walked away from her house and stood in the middle of the path, staring down at the city as the guards got through the gates and ran towards her, determination to kill Nerevar's offspring plain as day on their faces. She looked back at her daughter who stared back at her as she climbed onto her horse, Ivory, with Ilsa still sleeping in her arms.

"Run." Tralsa whispered to her. Ilsa let out a small noise which startled the horse, who reared back and began riding away from the stables and Mournhold. Llaala kept looking back at her mother; the very person who nurtured her, cared for her, raised her...until she was only a speck in the distance.

Tralsa pulled out a Dwarven dagger from behind her back and held it in front of her in a defensive position in front of her as the guards all stopped in front of her.

"Tralsa, get out of the way." one of the guards said. Her crimson eyes narrowed and her mouth pulled into a snarl which made a couple of guards step back.

"No one harms my children; especially my daughter." she growled, getting into a protective stance. The guards drew out their swords and bows.

"Fine." the same guard replied. A mischievous grin slowly appeared on the Indoril's face.

"Fine." she hissed, and she slowly disappeared. The guards looked around, some startled, some confused and some frightened. The woman didn't even use a potion!

Maybe Nerevar Indoril wasn't the mischievous one after all...

The first guard fell, a Dwarven dagger in his throat, and it was pulled out quickly by an invisible force, and the guards charged towards the shimmering transparent figure in front of them.

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><p>Llaala kept looking back in the direction of Mournhold as the way in front of her got even more ash-y and dark. She kicked her heels into the horse to move faster, and she got a snort and a whinny in return.<p>

Ivory was the fastest horse in the province, well, to her knowledge anyway, and if this horse couldn't get her away from the guards she didn't know what horse could.

She rode towards Blacklight, the other races stopping to look at the horse and it's rider in shock and confusion. They had not seen a horse that strong, or the rider on the animal before, but she looked like she rode to Blacklight every day. Only half an hour later did a group of guards ride off in the same direction after her.

A young girl, with her hair pulled up into a braid, stopped and watched the guard chase, her eyes shining with curiosity. Her mother looked back, releasing her daughter was not following her. She turned, and the baby girl on her back mewled at the sudden movement.

"Come along now dear, your father is expecting us." she called.

"Yes, Mama." her eyes caught on something shining in the dirt and she ran over, picking it up.

The purple amethyst shone in the light and she giggled, putting it around her neck. Her mother called after her again and with one last glance in the direction of the woman and the guards she skipped off and her mother kept on walking, holding her daughter's hand.

Llaala made Ivory do a turn and head down a rode through a village she didn't know existed. She heard the hooves of many horses behind her and she let out a shuddering breath.

She saw the snow in the distance and she smiled in victory. She was close to the border, a place they wouldn't find her or her daughter, a place they wouldn't dare search. Not to her knowledge.

She clicked her heels faster into the horse as the border got closer, and closer, and closer, and closer-

TWANG!

"AH!"

One hand went to her side as the blood poured through the spaces between her fingers. Her other hand still held on to her daughter, who stirred a bit before falling back to sleep. Ivory ran up the mountain to the pass, and crossed the border into the snowy province of Skyrim.

She pulled her cloak around herself tighter as the cold hit her body, shielding her daughter from the harsh winds and blistering snow. Ivory trotted past trees and the small fort nearby and she shuddered, holding her side as the blood kept pouring out of the wound. She was going to die, and Ivory knew it, as she sped up.

Ilsa woke up with a yawn, and she looked around startled for a moment before her eyes landed on the familiar hooded figure holding her close to her chest. She smiled and gurgled, making grabby hands up at her mother, who smiled and held her closer.

Llaala made Ivory turn and trot up the mountain towards a huge wooden wall. She turned her head in the direction she came from as she heard hooves and the shouts of the guards. They had followed her into Skyrim, and if she stayed here with her daughter they would all surely die.

She jumped of her horse, holding Ilsa close to her chest and she knocked on the wooden doors. A female Orc wearing necromancer robes and brandishing an orc axe appeared above the wall and looked down at the two Dark Elves.

"Llaala?" she grunted. She looked up.

"Shabhira!" she replied. She disappeared for a moment and opened the gates.

"Come in." she said. Llaala shook her head and shoved the baby in her green arms.

"I can't. They're coming. Look after my daughter, please, that is my favour." she whispered. Ivory snorted and stamped the ground and Llaala saw the guards in the distance.

"Please! And give this note to Shakh. Please..." she begged, giving her the note which looked like it had been written long ago. Shabhira looked down at the infant in her arms, who made grabby hands at her mother and whined, her eyes watering.

"Yes. Malacath watch over you," she said. Llaala kissed her daughter's head, tears beginning to stream down her face as she took one look at her daughter; her ruby red eyes wide, her grey skin soft to touch and her black as night hair. She would grow up to be a fiery warrior, no one would bring her down, maybe, except herself.

She gave a teary nod to Shabhira and limped to Ivory, jumping onto the horse, clutching her bloody side. The other Orcs, including the Chief, gathered at the gates of Narzulbur and watched the Daughter of Neverar Indoril ride off towards the guards, who were searching at the bottom of the mountain.

One last thought crossed Llaala Indoril's mind as she got closer to the guards...

One of them spotted her and pulled back an arrow, and fired...

One last thought crossed her mind as the arrow shot through the air and hit Llaala in the heart...

Ilsa Indoril would grow up to have her name not written in legends, but in everyone's hearts she touched until her name was used in prayers. She would make sure of it.

Because Llaala would always be watching.

_Always..._


End file.
